Sex in the City
by Silly Lilly Lolly
Summary: Kurt and Santana attempt to mend their broken hearts with a bottle of Sangria, but it only leads to disaster. Companion to xdreamernumbuhfour's Of Lost Clothes and Broken Hearts. Rated for language and implied sexual behavior.


**Lilly here, once again! I feel accomplished for posting twice in two days. Once again, this was prompted by the darling xdreamernumbuhfour, as well as titled by it. This is the brain child of one of our many odd conversations in which plot bunnies are constantly produced, and she has the companion piece to this, Of Lost Clothes and Broken Hearts. Please read it! I titled and prompted hers, and these are the beginnings of a oneshot series coming up, so it would help to read both. Please and thank you! I don't own Glee or it's affiliates, and I hope you enjoy and check out my friend's addition. **

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There is a knock on the metal door that echoes and rattles through the nearly abandoned apartment.

"Santana Lopez, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Kurt asks, opening the door to his and Rachel's apartment to reveal the Latina, who's only notice was a text that she was landing at JFK and needed his address to give the cabbie.

"I needed to see my best broken-up bitch," Santana says, smirking and removing her trench coat, revealing a short red cocktail dress and knee high leather boots.

"You did not wear that on the plane, did you?" he demands, horrified.

The girl raises an eyebrow. "Of course I did. I wasn't planning on hopping a plane. I had a date and after I ended up in the airport with an overnight bag and a shit load of cash from my Ma."

Kurt freezes, grabbing her hand. "A date? Santana, did you have a bad date and feel the need to fly to _New York City_ to bitch about it?"

"No, I had a date with someone who wasn't Brittany and I needed a friend because I finally realized that it's really over," she admits, her voice growing soft as she finished. She shakes out her long black hair and begins to dig through her bag. "I don't want to talk about it."

"'Tana, you can talk about it if you need to," the boy says gently, touching her shoulder.

She lifts her shining eyes, then shakes her head. "Nope, we're gonna have our own bitch fest. I gave the cabbie a tip to get me the good stuff on the way over."

Kurt raises an eyebrow, mimicking the girl's earlier reaction. "What do you mean by 'good stuff.'"

"Sangria. We're celebrating."

"Santana!"

"Calm down, Baby Gay. I need a little bitch time, and you were my first choice. Be honored."

Kurt shakes his head, sighing. "Honey, what is wrong?"

Santana glares. "Nothing."

"I don't want you - _us_ - doing something stupid. God knows what you and I could manage in NYC with broken hearts and the influence of alcohol," he says lamely, hating the part of him that wanted badly to join her asinine self-destructive behaviors.

"I'm Mexican. My Abuela put tequila in my baby bottle. I can handle my liquor," she says with a smirk, traipsing into the kitchen to dig for a corkscrew and a few glasses. "Any if I recall _you_'_re_ the one who confused Ms. P for a Disney character then puked on her shoes, Baby Gay."

He blushes furiously. "Shut up and give me a drink, Snix."

Santana's smirk grows, and she quickly serves up the first round.

A few hours and several lost inhibitions later, Kurt and Santana lay on his bed, passing the bottle back and forth. Kurt lays in his boxer briefs, and Santana in a slip, both complaining of getting hot after they'd finished half of the bottle. Santana's head rests on Kurt's shoulder, and her legs are folded over his lap.

"I just… Why do bad things happen to me? I'm not a bad person!" Santana whines, the bottle dangerously loose in her fingers as she motions wildly.

"Yes, you are," Kurt deadpans, snatching the bottle and tipping it up. "You dumped Britt. She's sweet and innocent and smells like root beer flavored lip balm."

"You dumped Blaine, bitch," she replies, growling.

He huffs angrily, taking another swallow. "He cheated on me."

The Latina snatches the bottle, taking a loud gulp. "He put his dick in another ass. Boo hoo."

Kurt is silent, then he looks over at Santana and says in a matter-of-fact tone, "Blaine usually bottoms. Like, all the time."

"No shit?" Santana asks, giggling. "For real, so you're like the top?"

"Shut up! And yes, really, he topped all of twice a few months into having sex and we didn't like it a lot."

"Dude, that's fucking awesome. I always knew you were like… A secret dominatrix."

Kurt glares, flashing his middle finger. "I'm a boy."

Santana crosses her arms. "You own more women's shoes than I do."

"You're such a bitch!"

"And you're a whiny little girl who can't deal with having a sexually frustrated boyfriend who found another dick."

"You're not good enough for Britt. You never were. You are a horrible person and you left her so you could have options and get off!" Kurt throws his dirtiest words at Santana.

Suddenly, his cheek stings. Santana glowers at him, her hand still raised. "You don't think I know that? You don't think I thought of that when I left her? She deserves better, and she's got more options. She's fucking amazing, and pansexual to boot, so she could have anyone she wanted."

"But she wanted you and you hurt her!"

"I was going to anyway, so why not do it quick and let her go on with her life?"

Kurt sits up on his knees, cheeks stinging and anger bubbling up in his chest. "You're all she ever wanted! She was in love with you and you broke her heart! Why would you do that! I - she - _sbe_ was totally devoted to you, and…."

Santana sits up as well, shoving his chest. "You're pissed because you're happy little gay fairy tail didn't work out. You're not a Disney bitch, you're a scared little boy. I know what B needs and it's not me, but you're so hung up over your perfect little boyfriend isn't so perfect and you can't stand the idea of someone else being happy."

"But you're not happy!"

"The hell I am. Right now I'm a little fucking angry."

"Fuck you."

**SKSKSKSKSK**

Sunlight streams in through the window of Kurt's bedroom, irritating the inhabitants. A ray of sunshine lands right in Kurt's eyes, and he groans, rolling over to press his face into his pillow. His head is pounding, his stomach is churning, and his body has a film of grime that makes it nearly impossible to go back to sleep.

He slowly sits up, stretching out and groaning again as blood rushes to his head, intensifying the throbbing pain. "Jesus…"

"Nombre de Dios…" comes a soft whine from beside him. Santana rolls onto her back, groaning irritably. "Go away, sun…"

"Santana, why are you naked?" Kurt groans, covering his face when he sees the swell of her breasts under the blanket.

"I was about to ask you the same…" She groans, sitting up and clutching the sheet around her. "What happened?"

There is silence as Kurt thinks, rubbing his aching head. "Well, there was alcohol. And yelling. And…"

"You told me 'fuck you,'" Santana supplies unhelpfully, giggling a bit. "Baby Gay said a dirty word. What will happen when Daddy finds out?"

"Are you still drunk? Because I don't think I can deal with you right now."

Santana rolls her eyes, standing up and stretching, her back to the boy on the bed. She begins padding around, looking for her clothes. "Uh, Kurt… I think…"

Kurt's eyes snap open. "What do you think? No good sentences start with 'I think.'"

"I think we had sex. Well, I know we had sex. I feel disgusting and we're both naked."

"What? I had… I… A girl? _You_…?"

"Thanks for the enthusiasm. Yes, I had a _wonderful_ time. It's every little lesbian's dream to screw her best gay. At least we're on the same team so it cancels out."

Kurt stands up, wrapping the sheet around his body. "How are you still managing to be a bitch? We just had sex. With each other. _Hate sex_. Two homosexual teenagers who just got out of relationships and are heartbroken. What is wrong with you?"

Santana looks up from the pile of her clothing on the floor, tears in her eyes. "So much."

"'Tana…"

"I screwed up, Kurt. I still love Brittany. I'm so in love with her it hurts but I don't deserve something so perfect. And I ruined it!" she whimpers, a sob bursting from her lips. "I can't…."

Kurt collects her in an embrace, not caring anymore that they are dirty and naked and fifty shades of fucked up, because he's crying, too. It's the worst kind of crying, crying for yourself, but he does it because it's for himself but it's also for Santana, the only person in the world who could possibly understand the way he feels right now. "It's okay, I get it… In my heart I know Blaine wouldn't cheat again, but my pride wants to be his one and only, so I broke it off. I don't trust him and I just…"

Santana sobs again, breaking down crying in her friend's arms. "I love her so much. I want her back, but now I've gone and ruined everything. I'm so sorry, Kurt. I'm sorry we got drunk and I hate Blaine for what he did, but if you really love him, don't let him go. I can't… I wouldn't wish this feeling on anyone."

"I love you, Santana. I hope you and Britt fix everything."

"Bitches have to stick together," Santana says with a sniff, her face twisting into a sad version of her signature smirk.

Kurt smiles a watery smile, tipping her chin up. "There's the Snix I know and love."

She kisses his lips softly, platonically, and hugs him. "For the record, I love you, too, Baby Gay."

"Best bitches forever?"

The two begin to giggle, hugging again and nodding in agreement.

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**A/N: Hope you enjoyed this! It ended up not as good as I hoped, but it's only the beginning, so there's room for improvement. Remember to check out the companion piece, which should show up on my favorites list soon! Reviews are appreciated and encouraged. **

**Lilly**


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